


List of Annoyances

by VampireNaomi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireNaomi/pseuds/VampireNaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Germany thinks snow is nothing but trouble. Italy tries to convince him otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	List of Annoyances

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for fangamarang in the Hetalia Christmas challenge on Livejournal.

Germany's list of things that were troublesome was very long. Italy was on top of it. In fact, it was Italy who caused most of the headaches in his life – though Prussia was a good second. Italy was always late, always loud, always clumsy and always did things in incomprehensible ways that Germany hadn't thought would cross anyone's mind. He had lost count how many times he had found his paperwork drenched in coffee, his laptop in the bathtub or seen Italy go open the door to the mailman without putting any clothes on first.

With all that in mind, it was surprising that Italy was also on top of his list of things that made him happy. When he felt he was drowning in work, Italy forced him out of his study and made him remember that there was more to life. He loved the evenings when they went out for a walk and Italy leaned against his shoulder. It warmed his heart to see how much joy Italy got from simple things in life, like he had never really grown up.

Then again, it was exactly those moments that had resulted in Italy's number one spot on the first list. A very good example of such behaviour was currently unfolding before Germany's eyes.

“Italy,” Germany said sternly. “Get up from the ground. You're going to get yourself all wet.”

Italy stopped rolling around in the fresh snow, but he made no move to get back on his feet.

“But, Germany. It's so pretty and soft and white! Come on, join me!”

“No. I just got this coat back from the dry cleaner's.”

“Then why did you decide to wear it when we're taking the dogs out? It's going to get dirty anyw--Hey, Berlitz! Don't lick my face! No!”

Germany sighed and called the dog to his side. He had trained all three of them himself, and usually he couldn't complain about their behaviour. It was only when Italy came to visit that the dogs lost all reason and became difficult to control.

“Get up,” he said again. “We have to keep going and make it back home before it starts snowing more.”

“But I love snow! And the dogs love it, too! Look!” Italy finally got up, only to scoop some snow into his hands so that he could make a ball out of it. He threw it as far as he could, and all three dogs immediately ran after it.

“Playing fetch is a good a way to train dogs,” Germany acknowledged. “But snowballs aren't very good for it. They break too easily.”

“I'm not trying to train them! I'm playing with them. You like playing with them, too.”

“But not in snow.”

Snow was also on Germany's list of troublesome things. It was cold and wet. It added to his work because he had to keep clearing it out of their share of the pavement. It made roads slippery and caused traffic accidents, which in turn made everyone else on the road be late. The dogs were always wet when he took them out at winter, and they brought snow and water everywhere in the house when they returned. Snow was nothing but more work and problems.

“Don't you like snow?” Italy asked.

“No. And neither should you. You're Italy, remember?”

“I'm just the northern half,” Italy said with a smile. “I get a lot of snow at my place. It's Romano who doesn't like snow. You should see how angry he gets when it snows in Rome. Maybe you two could bond over it since you both hate it.”

Germany didn't think so. Romano hated a lot of things, some of which he was sure were on his list, but that had never brought them any closer. Quite the contrary. He had given up on that the two of them could ever be friends, but he had sometimes tried to build some tolerance between them. He had the feeling that the more he tried, the more Romano hated him.

“I doubt that.”

“Well, then I guess your only choice is to learn to love snow! Come on!”

And with that, Italy was back on the ground, making a snow angel with a blissful smile on his face. Germany watched him in dismay and imagined how long it would take for his coat to dry. He couldn't understand why anyone would willingly do this to himself.

“People are starting to stare. Please stop that,” he said.

Italy sat up and frowned at him in thought. “Have you always hated snow, Germany? Didn't you like it even when you were little?”

Germany thought back to the winters of his childhood. He remembered the countless mornings when Prussia had surprised him with snow in bed, how troublesome it had been to learn to handle a musket when he had been wearing gloves and how Prussia had forced him into hours of snowball war under the pretence that it was training. One year he had spent a month in bed with pneumonia because of that.

“No, I didn't like it even back then,” he said.

“Aww, that's too bad. Every kid should love snow. What is it that you don't like about it?”

“It's cold, messy and causes delays.”

Italy pouted at him. “But I do some of those things, too! You're always complaining that I leave my things everywhere and that I make you late to meetings. Does that mean you hate me, too?”

“Of course not,” Germany said at once. 

“Why not?”

“What are we even talking about?”

“Come on! Tell me why you don't hate me!”

Germany took a glance around to make sure there was nobody within hearing distance. This could get awkward. Then again, every day with Italy was awkward in some way.

“I don't hate you because even with all the problems you cause... You... Really, Italy? Do I really have to do this?”

“Yup! I want to hear it! It's been a while.”

Germany sighed at the eager smile on Italy's face and knew that he couldn't say no to him. It was times like this that he was sure Italy wasn't as innocent and clueless as he seemed, that he was actually very good at only appearing that way so that he'd always get what he wanted. Why else would his resolve always falter when Italy looked at him like that?

“It's... Well...”

“Would it help if I first told you why I don't hate you?” Without waiting for a reply, Italy swiftly continued, “I have so many reasons for that! You're so strong and also really kind even though you're so terrible at showing it. You're actually kind of scary a lot times, but when you're not, you're really, really sweet! I like that you always help me organize my paperwork and remind me of the things that I've forgotten because otherwise I'd be in trouble all the time. It makes me so happy that you always do that for me even though I sometimes cause you trouble. Because it makes me feel that you'll always be there when I need you, and I already know that I'm going to need you a lot because I can't imagine my life without you!”

Germany could only stare as Italy stood up from the ground and came to wrap his arms around his.

“And by that I mean that I love you a lot! Now you should say the same to me!”

Germany cleared his throat, trying to come to terms with the warmth that was blossoming in his chest. The things Italy made him feel were so nerve-wrecking and wonderful at the same time. His mind hadn't yet learned to process all of it beyond the knowledge that he rather liked it.

“Well, I, uh... I love you, too.”

Italy pursed his lips in annoyance. “But why, Germany? You have to tell me why!”

Germany supposed there was no other way out of this situation. “Because you make me realise that I need something more than rules and order to be happy. You cause me a lot of trouble, but I think I'd be quite miserable without you,” he said.

Italy squeezed his arm. “Wow, you managed to say all that without stuttering! You're getting better at it.”

“So, that's why I hate snow but not you. Snow has only disadvantages,” Germany said.

“But that's not true!” Italy blurted out. “There are lots of nice things about snow! I'll show you!”

“Italy, what are you –” 

Before Germany could finish, Italy had given him a shove. It wouldn't have normally done anything to him, but the ground was slippery, and Italy's action took him entirely by surprise. It was therefore with a startled yelp that Germany lost his balance and fell on his back on the ground.

And then Italy was lying on top of him, his face awfully close to his. It was enough to send a blush to Germany's cheeks, but Italy just kept smiling down at him, oblivious to his discomfort.

“Snow is great for cuddling! It's really soft.”

“It's cold. We're both going to get sick if we don't get up right now,” Germany said. Despite his words, he wasn't moving a muscle to get Italy off him. His weight on his chest was comfortable and familiar.

“Not if we drink something nice and hot afterwards. That's another reason why snow is so great. First we can cuddle here, and then we can get home and do it again under blankets while we're drinking hot chocolate! It feels a lot better if you've been freezing first.”

“What about my coat? The dry cleaning bill –”

But Italy silenced him with a kiss before he had the time to vocalize that miserable thought. Unlike the snow under his back, the kiss was warm and pleasant, and for a moment Germany forgot all about what water could do to wool. He wrapped his arms around Italy and pulled him closer into another kiss.

Then there was suddenly a tongue in his ear. He yelped in surprise and jerked away, sending Italy off him. When Germany turned to look, he saw that the dogs had grown tired of playing and had come to see what they were doing on the ground.

Germany sighed and gave Berlitz a pat to the head.

“I think it would be a good idea to head back home,” he said.

“Aww,” Italy whined. “But it was just getting good!”

“We're in public. It would be more practical if we skipped this phase and went straight for the blankets and hot chocolate.”

“Really? You mean it? Then let's go!”

Germany picked himself up from the ground, and they started making their way back towards his house. Italy latched himself onto his arm and spent the whole way home babbling about what a great time they had had and how it was so much fun to take the dogs out when it was snowing.

“Come on, admit it,” he said, sticking out his tongue to catch a snowflake on it. “Snow can be fun, too!”

“It's still troublesome and impractical, but I suppose you have a point,” Germany said. Those last few moments on the ground had certainly been enjoyable. Maybe snow did have its benefits.

They arrived at the house. Germany was just about to unlock the door when he suddenly felt something cold hit him in the back of his head. Most of it slid down his neck, right inside the collar of his coat.

There was a raspy cackle from somewhere amongst the rose bushes. “Hah! Got you, West! Man, you sure had your defences down. Didn't suspect a thing!”

“Prussia,” Germany said slowly. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to play this game with you?”

“No use keeping count! It's your duty to accept when your older brother challenges you to a war!” came the voice from the bushes. Germany couldn't be bothered to try to locate his brother. He was no doubt hiding and thinking he was being clever.

“Ooh, can I play, too?” Italy asked eagerly.

“Nah, sorry, Ita-cakes. I really don't want to hit you. You're too cute. But you can give cookies and hot chocolate to the winner. Which will be me!”

Germany returned his attention to the door. He got hit by one more snowball before they made it inside. Once there, he saw that Prussia had been going in and out during their walk and that there were wet footprints all over the living room and kitchen.

On second thought, snow was going to stay on his list of troublesome things.


End file.
